


Confussion

by That_Nerd_Cam, WitchipediaAus



Series: Cello [2]
Category: Camp Camp (Web Series)
Genre: F/F, someone fixed my angsty shit, yay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-29
Updated: 2017-11-29
Packaged: 2019-02-08 06:43:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12859002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/That_Nerd_Cam/pseuds/That_Nerd_Cam, https://archiveofourown.org/users/WitchipediaAus/pseuds/WitchipediaAus
Summary: "Yes, I kill people. We don’t know why, we just follow orders. My boss, Big Man Frea, gives us our targets at breakfast. They pay is great. We are fed and housed too."Otherwise: Cj's perspective





	Confussion

**Author's Note:**

> i didn't write this cam did

If I could tell you how I started working as a hitman I would. Truth is, yes this is a HUGE cliche, I don’t remember my past. Max likes to think we didn’t find the job, but the job found us. I can’t complain. I lost most of my morals the day I lost most of my memories.

Yes, I kill people. We don’t know why we just follow orders. My boss, Big Man Frea, gives us our targets at breakfast. They pay is great. We are fed and housed too.

I bet your sorry ass is thinking, ‘You can’t kill people! That’s wrong!’ I don’t give a shit. It’s a fantastic way of letting out repressed anger. And I have a lot of that. My name? Cj. I can kill a human being in 200 ways with just my bare hands. I am only 15 years old, woke up as a hitman, go to sleep as a hitman. The guilt doesn’t exist. Those people are my targets, survival of the strongest. Now that you know as much about me as I do, let’s get to the story.

_________________________

I don’t know what day it is. We never do. It’s not important. Elliot would know. We never really talked before. The thing about Elliot? She’s smart. A Goddamn genius. Me? I know how to gut someone. Elliot works in the medic field of what we do. A doctor. A beauty. She has mocha skin and dark hair wrapped in a bun, the frizzy curls always escaping. She was doing her afternoon file run when I decided to talk to her.

Unlit cigarette hanging from my mouth, white dress shirt unbutton a few pegs and tie loosed to a Friday Night extent. Us hitman wore the same thing. Suit and tie. Elliot had a lab coat with a few pens and an armful of files.

“Hey, Elliot right?” I started with something simple. I damn well knew her name. Something about this girl felt familiar like we met in a past like or some profound shit like that. “Nice to finally talk to you.” I watched as she fiddled with the files nervously. She was probably scared of me, I would be too.

She was quiet for a second. “Y-Yeah! Right b-back at ‘cha!” She finger gunned and I smiled. Elliot was a total wreck when It came to talking to hitman.

I moved my blazer behind my back to put my heads in my pockets. Whistling softly, I notice the corridor we are heading down all too well. Frea’s office. The Big Man who gives us our targets. “Where are we headed?” She shuffles the files around and pulls out one stamped with ‘CLASSIFIED’. Tomorrow’s targets.

“Frea, your boss I think.”

“Yup, that’s her. Good luck. And Elliot?”

“Hmm?”

I pull a pen from her pocket and write my phone number and room number. “Call me.” I wink and place my unlit cigarette on her files,

Max turns the corner, retying his tie. “Cj! There you are!” He taps on the wall in morse code, our second language. ‘You are not supposed to be here.’ “F gave us our mission-”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m on it.” I adjust my tie and button my shirt, quickly scanning the file for name and address. “Let’s go kill some bitches, Maxie.”

_____________________________

Voices whisper harshly as my eyes flutter open. I see white clothing stained with blood, red hair, and purple eyes looking down at me. I feel too tired to think of who is speaking. I am moving, my stomach wet. I touch it and my palm is red, with a liquid I know all too well.

“Whaa..?” I try for a sentence but I'm immediately shushed.

A voice speaks loud, clear enough for my fuzzy brain to understand. “Who the hell decided this was okay?! Who did this? Do I need to throw hands?” Max enters the room yelling.

Frea is there too, looking over the redhead’s shoulder. I think his name is David. Which means the one that shushed me was Gwen, his partner. David calls out orders for someone to leave, and Max points at Frea.

I am not sure what he said, but she left.

I surpass a giggle. “Good riddance!” No one seemed to notice my joke, but I spot Elliot and becon her closer. “Elly! Elliot, did you know who the target was?” I sound overly excited. I feel dizzy. She shook her head so I kept talking. “C.C! You would not believe how good of a fighter he was! Ha!”

She showed concern. “What- What did he do?”

“I don’t know! I went in fine and now I’m all bloody!” I feel a sharp pain in my neck. “My neck hurts. Elly did you know there’s a needle in my neck?”

Gwen laughs. “I’m sure I'll be fine!” I add, but I do not feel fine.

______________________

A few hours later I do feel fine, all pain, and even the wound gone. But the surgery has left something else. A trace of memories. Elliot rushes into my room, interrupting me before I can ask what’s wrong.

The feeling grew worse as she started talking about memories, and lack thereof. She talks about Frea, C.C, Max, David, and a few others. But what really grabs my attention is the name I do not remember. The name of no one I know.

Connor O’Brien.

As Elliot breaks down I hold her in a way I've never done but feels like I have.

Memories flash. A cliff, needles, a dead body, and screams. None of It makes sense until Elliot pulls away so say five words, then everything clicks.

“Do you want you run away?”

**Author's Note:**

> eck go to first part for credit


End file.
